Blue Ice
by MacMhuirich
Summary: Tim and Tony are sent off to Greenland for an investigation when Tim gets separated during a whiteout. In such adverse conditions, Tim will be forced to use all his survival skills to make it out of this Arctic wilderness alive, or... A sliver of McAbby at the end. This was my SeSa gift for Shelbylou.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

_**Day 1: 76°31′52″N 068°42′11″W**_  
_**Greenland - Thule US Airbase**_

"What do you mean, "he's gone off the grid"?

"He hasn't reported back for a while, sir. We've lost all contact."

"What about the rest of the research team?"

"They made it safely back to the station after being out on the ice checking the equipment. The blizzard had surprised them all to begin with, which resulted in the loss of Bennett and a Danish lieutenant, and the search party had to abandon all efforts finding them both back due to whiteout conditions. Moreover, they wanted to get the others from the Polar Science Program back to the station before nightfall. As it stands, the two men are presumed dead by now."

"A Danish lieutenant?"

"Yessir. I just got confirmation the Danish Navy are rather interested in getting the body of their lost lieutenant back, too. They sounded pretty worried. It appears the man hails from a family with a longstanding army...sorry, navy tradition. It transpires his family's also connected to the Danish royal family. Contrary to Bennett, the Danish officer was no Arctic newbie. Actually, he was in charge of Project Blue Ice."

Admiral Eldridge snorted while he perused the transcript of the missive. "I didn't realize there were still navies that upheld promotion by interest."

His bushy eyebrows went up in surprise when his gaze fell upon the name of the missing lieutenant. "Birger Nørsgård?"

"Sir? Uhm... Yessir."

"I know his father. A prime officer. Anyway, tell me what happened to project Blue Ice?"

"A team went out there, but they'd found the base deserted and everything of worth had been thoroughly destroyed. A preliminary investigation by the rescue party pointed in the direction of a polar bear having found its way in and making a complete shambles of the place on its quest for food."

"Too much of a coincidence, if you ask me."

"I agree, sir. "

The admiral turned towards his desk and picked up a sheet of paper which he held out to his personal secretary who took it and ran his eyes over the RDN document. "Admiral Mejdal sent me this. He's already put together his little expedition to go out there and bring Nørsgård back." There was the slightest hesitation but then Admiral Eldridge continued. "The Royal Danish Navy make it pretty obvious they don't believe in accidents, either."

"Shouldn't we call in NCIS, sir?"

The admiral considered his aide's advice. He didn't really have to think about it for long. There was only one course of action to be taken in such a case. This was something for his old friend Leroy Jethro Gibbs' team.

"Call the HQ; I want Gibbs' best man on this. For now, all we can do is pray that those two men out there managed to ride the storm out in a makeshift shelter. In that case, they may yet be alive."

"Rather doubtful, sir."

"You don't know Nørsgård, Dan. He knows the Arctic. And I know why Admiral Mejdal wants him back – not to mention the young officer's family! However, we are talking about two young men who need to be found."

**_38°52′24″N76°59′49″W_**  
**_NCIS Navy Yard - Washington DC_**

"What? You can't send Probie out there, Boss! He'll freeze to death!"

"Gibbs, let me go. McGee is…"

"…and if he stays here, he can let his magic little fingers do their tricks and send out the cavalry when…IF…we need it."

"…the least experienced!"

The team leader gave a shrill whistle that silenced his bickering agents quite effectively. Well, two bickering agents as his third man still sat unobtrusively at his desk, "magic little" fingers dexterously flying across his keyboard.

Timothy McGee had long since learned to tune his co-workers out when they vied – usually over his head, anyway - for a job that would take them abroad. He'd long given up being selected for one.

This time would be no different.

Gibbs' whistle, though, had him perked up in alarm like a meerkat emerging from its burrow.

Tony and Ziva both fell silent.

"McGee's going and that's final."

"But he's already been to Canada and, Boss, you know he can't stand the freezing cold!"

At that, Tim narrowed his eyes petulantly. "I'm hardly a wimp, Tony. I'm not afraid of a little cold. I can fend for myself, thank you." He then fixed his unwavering green gaze upon Gibbs. "I can do this, Boss."

He couldn't believe they still thought him incapable of doing his job as a federal agent! Inside, he was boiling, yet, he knew how to hide his feelings. He stared his boss down, thus transmitting his message that he was strong enough to be on this case. After all, wasn't it obvious his boss had confidence he could do it? Gibbs had asked him and everybody knew Gibbs wouldn't send his men into something they couldn't cope with.

"I have the experience needed for this case!" Ziva stubbornly tossed in.

"Who said he was going alone?"

"But…"

"Oh," Tim thought with some amusement, "this is going to be interesting…"

"I wasn't done talking. I know you have experience, Ziva, however this case is on McGee and DiNozzo."

The two male agents' gazes slowly swiveled towards Ziva's face, now flushing hot with indignation and then at each other.

"Gibbs!" Ziva attempted to make him change his mind.

"Not my orders, Ziva," Gibbs said before turning towards Tim. "Better start packing your woollies. No time for getting cold feet. You too, DiNozzo."

All three agents stared at him.

He checked his watch, tapped it and said: "What are you waiting for? Your flight takes off at 17:00."

Gibbs turned on his heel and walked towards the elevator, away from two baffled agents and a fuming Ziva.

If there was one person going to stay behind – to send out the cavalry…if…needed – it would be him. For starters, his old bones, or rather his joints, couldn't cope with the Arctic climate. More importantly, Abby would fix them a little something – a little device from Abby - to keep a track on them. He smiled, confident they wouldn't get lost.

As for Ziva, Vance had opined she still needed time to sort things out and Gibbs had agreed with the Director.

The closing of the elevator doors galvanized Tony and Tim into action and they hurriedly began to collect their gear.


	2. The Top of the World

_**Thank you all for your comments, for favoriting and following: you all rock! You have no idea how happy you all made me! :))))**_

* * *

_**Chapter 1: "The Top of the World"**_

**_Day 2: 76°31′52″N 068°42′11″W_**  
**_Greenland - Thule AFB_**

It was late when the specially commissioned aircraft touched down on the ice covered runway of the US air base and the Arctic air was clean and crisp when Tim and Tony stepped down from the plane into a -25°C Arctic night.

From the Military Airlift Command at BWI Baltimore Washington International Airport to Thule AFB, the flight had taken a long and uncomfortable 5 hours and 45 minutes and the two agents were relieved to step down onto solid ground again. It had been a thoroughly bumpy ride which had them both nauseated with Tim spending an embarrassing time with a barfbag under his nose while Tony was lucky to manage some sleep for the last hour of the flight.

They were met on the Flightline by Admiral Eldridge's aide who drove them to their quarters at the base facilities where they were served a decent dinner while they were quickly briefed about their assignment and other information pertinent to the harsh environment of the Arctic.

After dinner, the two were shown to the dormitory-style room they were to share but, as soon as they'd closed the door behind them, any thought of flopping into bed right away, was quickly dispelled and replaced by excitement.

On their beds, they each found an outfit that would ensure to keep them warm in extreme cold conditions and neither man could ignore this boyish and Christmassy feeling of being about to embark on an adventure.

There was a set of warm and comfortable synthetic garments among which a pair of lined and windproof pants, thermals, a fleece jacket of sorts and last but not least, a thick, yet ultra light Gortex parka. The Admiral's aide, Dan, had explained about the necessity of wearing different layers – at least 4, preferably 5 – when going out on the ice. Before setting off in the morning, they would be issued a pair of fitting boots.

Tim eyed the rest of the provided equipment on the bed. He checked the backpack with other necessities for polar expeditions… The whole lot was military issued, of course, and all essential stuff if they were to make it out alive in case of eventualities, which were not uncommon in these harsh environments: a spare GPS, his satellite phone, some dried food supplies…

Checking all this gear spread out on his bed, Tim once more felt boyish excitement almost bubbling over. He was going on an adventure!

From the bundle of items on his bed, he lifted out a thermal blanket of very light material and he couldn't help but think it might probably prove life saving if something bad came their way; like him getting separated from his little expedition team. Lost in what might well become a frozen hell, unpredictable as the weather conditions were as up north as he was now.

Such sobering thoughts made him quickly toss the blanket back on the bed. It really didn't help to dwell on such thoughts but suddenly, his former excitement was dampened by the reality of the situation. They were here for some serious business; they were to find out and prove whether a crime had been committed or not.

They would go out on the ice in the morning, process the now abandoned research camp, help looking for traces (as if there still would be any useful clues left out there in the snow!) and, if they were extremely lucky, maybe find one or both of the victims… Hopefully alive, but that would be a stretch. And yet, during the briefing, they had learned one of them was an arctic expert which made it practically certain this was no accident of the two men simply getting carelessly lost.

He glanced over to Tony and found his friend and coworker stowing away his gear and getting ready for bed.

Good idea and not much later, he scooted snugly under the thick eider down for a dreamless night.

**_Day 2: Heading due north_**

Very early next morning, the two NCIS agents, in the company of a local guide attached to the base, a US training officer and 2 Danish naval men were airlifted due north to a remote location where the plane could safely land on a solid stretch of frozen fjord.

After having unloaded their next means of transport, the very practical ski-doos, they set off in beautiful cloudless skies, riding east and inland and up the sloping hills towards the small military research outpost set up on the very edge of Greenland's ice cap.

For Tony and Tim, the ride started off as one lovely opportunity and a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Just being here, traveling on this barren yet beautiful snow driven country, was incredible and exhilarating. It was hardly surprising how some people would pay huge amounts of money to just spend their holidays here.

The wide scenery was awe-inspiring, yet humbling and, apart from the engines of their snowmobiles, all was unearthly quiet. There was no sign of life.

Tim was starting to feel like a real explorer, albeit a budding one, and if Tony could see through Tim's balaclava, he would've noticed the wide exultant grin.

Obviously, the same could be said of his friend and Tim could actually see Tony's eyes twinkle with boyish excitement…

**_81° 6' 35.9994"N 59° 47' 59.9994"W_**  
**_Greenland - Project Blue Ice Research Unit_**

The winter sun had reached its highest point as they arrived at the deserted base and Tim and Tony had long abandoned the feeling of contentment. Instead, they felt stiff with cold as well as from sitting for hours on a ski-doo.

They stumbled inside the main building of the station which held the labs, and after a delayed lunch, they set to work.

Inside, a thin layer of powdery dust covered the clutter damaged equipment in the lab. In fact, the place was a shambles like a polar bear had a party inside and emptied the powder fire extinguishers!

Computers, communication devices, the generator in the annex and the snow machines…all had been disabled. Somebody went about it rather thoroughly.

Moreover, the temperature inside was about the same as outdoors; freezing. As a result, the conditions in which the agents had to perform their tasks weren't optimal. Tim's camera wasn't wholly cooperative in the freezing cold – although he managed to take the necessary snaps…as well as a couple of extra pics of Tony and himself as souvenirs - and the bagging and tagging wasn't made any easier, either, with those gloves.

The guide, the US training officer and one of the Danes had left for the GPS location where the men had been reported to have gone missing, looking for any possible tracks.

Meanwhile, the other Dane stayed at the camp with Tim and Tony, trying to get some life back into the generator as it was deemed safer to spend the night in the research camp and the small company got themselves as comfortable as could considering the circumstances.

Against all odds – it was a rare occurrence when somebody gone missing was found this soon - they were successful and had been able to pick up a trail which led them to Bennett's frozen body lying half buried in the wind drifted snow.

The body was brought in with a dramatic sunset for a backdrop and just as Tim and Tony were completing their crime scene processing. It had been established quite early in their search for clues that the damage caused had indeed been by criminal intent.

Any hope of finding Lieutenant Birger Nørsgård, the other missing person, alive had been abandoned with the gruesome discovery of Bennett's body.

Sleep, that night, didn't come easy to the agents which was entirely to be blamed to the all permeating cold, despite the special gear and the working generator.


	3. The White Monster

_**I'm sure many of you would be more appreciative of a 'warm' story full of sunshine rather than this 'cool' (sorry for the pun, LOL) story which will probably have you all grab armloads of fleeces and blankets and whatnots to find a modicum of comfort. ;D  
**_

_**So, here are my most sincere apologies for the extra bouts of shivers on top of all you guys have to endure with these extreme weather conditions in the States. I hope the weather turns for the better soon.**_

_**Anyway, enjoy the reading. If you really can't, well...save it for the hot days.**_

* * *

**_Chapter 2: The White Monster_**

**_Day 3: 81° 6' 35.9994"N 59° 47' 59.9994"W_**  
**_Greenland - Project Blue Ice Research Unit_**

First thing in the dark morning, they got onto their ski-doos once again after the local guide had urged them to make haste, tersely reminding them of the storm condition Delta warning for that day.

The two agents had no clue about what "condition Delta" entailed, but those accustomed to spending time in the Arctic were well aware about the drastic weather changes and knew better than to throw all caution to the wind.

As they were waiting for the last man securing the camp, the US training officer explained them about the high surface winds which blow off the ice cap causing a deadly combination of wind, snow, and sub-zero temperatures.  
These southeasterly winds are then channeled into the valleys where they are amplified with the velocity increasing. These conditions are ideal for the notorious whiteouts when the soft, loose snow is blown all over the place making visibility non-existent.

So, no, Tim and Tony didn't want to get caught in the middle of such a climatic monster and this time, their eyes weren't laughing for sharing an adventure as two friends on a polar expedition.

No.

That debonair attitude had already been dampened the closer they got to the remote camp, the day before. And later, when Bennett's frozen body had been brought into the research unit. And now, when there was this threat of an icy storm – a "Condition Delta" as the Thule residents called it - which might possibly wipe them all out, the winter wonder land had become an exceptionally hostile environment of white death.

Suddenly, their trip wasn't so amusing anymore. Not that it ever was to start with. After all, they were here to investigate what could now only be considered a murder and so in their line of work, there seldom was cause for amusement but to make it bearable, some lighting up with a laugh now and then, or some goofing around really helped them to cope with the awful things they would see.

Now, however, they were being told there might be the chance they'd have to fight for surviving a "Condition Delta" storm! Or a polar blizzard.

Still, the katabatic winds hit them suddenly and it was like an impenetrable white wall looming up all around them, particles of ice hitting them from all sides.

**_-___********_o0o_**-

Visibility was getting worse and soon the men could barely make out the backs of those ahead of them.

The US Training Officer drove the small party mercilessly, urging them for more speed lest the plane that would take them back to base would take off before they bloody well got there. There was no telling for how long the pilots would be able hold the plane when facing the risk of getting grounded there by the storm because the investigating group couldn't reach the pick-up point on time.

As a result, Tim was hyper concentrated to keep Tony's back in sight but it was getting harder.

Then, to makes matters worse, his engine faltered, sputtered and then fell altogether silent.

Oh no. No-no-no-noooo! Don't let this happen! Not here. Not now!

Tim yelled after the others to stop but his calls were drowned by the howling winds sweeping down from the vast Greenland Ice Sheet.

He tried to start his ski-doo again, to no avail.

With growing apprehension, he tried again and again, until, dejected, he sank down beside his sled, his eyes to the ground and then back to his stranded snowmobile.

And then he noticed something peculiar; a dark, albeit small, spot in the snow. He quickly leaned over to touch the spot with his gloved hand and rubbed the oily substance between his fingers.

"_Call for help! My satellite phone!_" Tim thought, almost breathless with trepidation, and at once set to search for what might be his one remaining lifeline. If he was able to reach Hilltop, Thule's Communications Center, they would know exactly where he was and maybe direct him back to the others…or send help his way and get him out of this frozen hell hole and back to the civilized world.

His movements became more erratic as he failed to find the item right away. Where was it? C'mon! C'm-_ooooonnn_!

He'd been over his things twice or thrice and it just wasn't there.

His last sparkle of hope dashed, he felt a chill taking over his body which had nothing to do with the freezing katabatic winds gusting all around him.

The all-consuming feeling of dread and defeat was overwhelming as confusion slowly gave way to fear at the realization – the only conclusion - somebody had quite deliberately left him without any means of communication. He'd been robbed from his satellite phone, plain and simple.

He was toast!

Oh, he was so, so screwed…

Weak-kneed, he got up and started walking. To where? Only God knew. Still, it was better than staying on the spot. He would think of further plans as he walked.

_********__-o0o-_

_**81° 8' 2.4"N 62° 5' 31.1994"W**_  
_**Greenland**_

When the drift had somewhat abated, the formerly appealing scenery had vastly changed and it was as if he had just awoken into a chilling nightmare.

Anxious for a way out of this freezing hell, he gazed around him, breathless from the arctic wind which seemed to have been more a blast of sharpies sent to each and every single compass point as it whirled and screamed like a living thing around him.

Finally, with mounting uncertainty, he turned around and, hoping he'd manage to retrace his footsteps, started to tramp in what he assumed to be the direction they'd come from. If he could make it back to the camp…

After hours of seemingly aimless perambulating, Tim had no clue where he was. All there was, was this white emptiness. What had looked like a picturesque, yet alien place before, now was a hostile and dead environment.

The way things looked, the surrounding whiteness, which spelled out "LOST" like some flashing neon light – in white, no less - would pose the ultimate challenge for survival. He realized this outing as from now would become a race for his life with no clue in what state he would reach the finishing line…if still alive.

He struggled on, ice crystals freezing onto his brows and stubble, an icicle hanging from his exposed nose. Progress, no matter what direction he was going, for he had no clue whatsoever, was agonizingly slow.

As he sluggishly yet steadily progressed, he occasionally scanned the horizon. He didn't quite know what to think of this place, what came closest to comparing what his eyes took in with. He settled for a frozen and snow covered lunar landscape. Or better yet, the frozen equivalent of the harsh and forbidden Sahel, and it stretched on and on, with no end in sight. No sand here, only snow. Not the parching heat of the sun burning sands but the just as burning and blinding cold of that same sun, its light reflected back by the white expanse.

A silly thought struck him and it brought a mad grin to his face. A hot desert still had oases, with lush green grass, palm trees and spring water…camels. He could drink camel milk.

He stopped and took a moment to look around.

No camels here.

Only a vast, uneven plain covered by wind driven snow.

But… He held a gloved hand above his brows to squint in the distance. At least, he now could make out the mountains from where the glacier was slowly but surely inching down.

He almost gave a whoop as relief flooded over him. He had carefully checked his mental map of the region and he had a fair idea where he was heading, now. At least, it was something.

But the sinking sun was now once again obscured by a white and impenetrable haze which was getting thicker and thicker and he realized he had to make haste.

Another storm was brewing and he quickly set out a mental course towards a point he assumed he would find the glacier mouth. Glacier caves provided shelter, he knew. It was a good thing they didn't tend to crumble in this season – and in hopes this one was one of the variety which didn't move too fast - so he certainly stood a better chance finding his way into one to ride out a whiteout and before it got too dark.

A straight line. That's what the LCDR at Thule Base had told them to walk if they were headed to a specific location.

With the sun going down – the sun never gets to rise very high in the sky anyway, this time of the year – temperatures were starting to drop really fast to -30°C.

God! This all permeating cold was numbing. Good or bad? He had no idea. Not anymore.

He fixed one last look upon his chosen destination and, with renewed vigor and a determined tilt of his head, he planted his trekking pole in the snow and started walking again, the pristine snow crunching beneath his boots. He would get there. He only needed to walk a straight line…more or less…and focus on staying alive.

Tim thought about his options for survival, inexperienced as he was. Thankfully, he was carrying some live saving essentials in his back pack. More importantly, Abby would always be able to find him via the minuscule tracking device she'd provided him and Tony with. It was indeed a comforting thought he now cherished. All he had to do was staying alive until a search party would pick him up.

Keep walking in a straight line and kill the time.

Soon, he couldn't see a thing anymore and an irate panic took a hold on him, causing him to hyperventilate. He hadn't known until know if one could hyperventilate in this freezing hell.

Calm down, McGee. Regulate your breathing.

He pulled the scarf – which he believed would be more insular besides the balaclava he already wore - over his nose which helped. In fact, right now, it was the best thing he could do anyhow to save his face from the exposure.

And so McGee plodded on across the ruddy terrain. Scrambling over shelves of ice jutting up and often sinking knee deep into depressions filled with windblown snow did draw a lot on his energy.

With the gale force icy winds which drove the snow all around him, walking had become a hard and strenuous process.

After a while, the numbness was back and spreading over his body as well as his mind and his progress became automated. He was running on auto pilot, and, unbelievable, still on course.

Suddenly, he stumbled and, before his brain could register what was happening, he was plummeting, tumbling, sliding down a sloping surface. His eyes widened a fraction and a multitude of cries involuntary broke past his lips.

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**Feedback's more than welcome! I've never been to Greenland, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.**

**Let me know what you think. :)**


	4. The Crystal Cave

**_Your favs/follows and feedback are truly encouraging! THANK YOU! _**

**_Hope things have calmed down a bit after the Polar Vortex. _**

* * *

**_Chapter 3: The Crystal Cave_**

A surge of adrenaline kicked in and he flailed and flung out his limbs to find a grip at something, anything, anywhere to break his fall.

There was no purchase on the slippery ice and rocks but neither was there time to process this and by then, he'd reached the bottom a lot sooner than he'd anticipated – like in a dream – for it wasn't even as steep or deep. It was just that he'd had no idea. Once he'd started slipping and falling, there was no telling how far, how deep, or how steep his ride down would be.

He landed hard and awkwardly on his back, breathing hard and looking up the steep sloping entrance to an ice cave.

Still panting with exertion and heart pounding wildly in his chest, the adrenaline slowly faded and he grimaced at the pain flaring in his shoulder, made worse by the strap of his backpack pulling at the joint.

He closed his eyes and painfully rid himself of the backpack. As soon as he was done, he clenched his right arm, and, swallowing, decided to sit up for a good look at the place he'd ended up into.

"Well," he said with a slight tremor to his voice and a little giddily, "looks like I found myself that shelter after all..."

A sound to his right made him snap his head in that direction which he instantly regretted.

"Hello," the only other occupant of the ice cave welcomed him, "A rather unceremonious entry, if I may say so… I hope you're with the rescue party?"

A light went on and Tim blinked at the onset of a headache and a sudden dizzy spell before squinting at the other man's face and clothes.

Eureka ! He'd found the other missing person – and alive! Granted it was entirely by accident…what with being lost himself in this godforsaken place.

The surge of relief of finding the Danish Lieutenant Nørsgård alive and kicking was short-lived. He was no longer alone but salvation was still nowhere in sight.

A bittersweet feeling at best.

"Lieutenant Birger Nørsgård, I presume?"

The Danish officer grinned.

"That's right. Soooo…" Lt. Nørsgård paused before carefully continuing, "not lost yourself, I may hope? That would be too awkward and quite a downer."

When Tim didn't reply straightaway, he let out a sigh, knowing the answer by the NCIS Agent's telling silence.

"Lieutenant Nørsgård, I…"

The Dane laughed in spite of his disappointment and the dire situation the two men had found themselves in. He limped over to where Tim lay and hauled Tim to his feet by taking a hold on the agent's left arm.

"Just call me Birger. Pleased to meet you…uhm…"

Tim shakily stood up and swayed slightly, clutching at his right arm again, his shoulder screaming in pain.

Lieutenant Nørsgård, observing Tim's pasty face, steadied him and, gently holding Tim by the elbow, steered him towards a dry spot further up into the cave where he sat the injured agent down.

Tim gratefully leaned back against an ice smoothed boulder and closed his eyes against the black spots which told him he'd got himself a minor concussion on top of his botched shoulder. Dislocated shoulder. The same as when he'd tried to subdue that PTSD Marine, Damon Werth, who'd broken Tony's nose in the process.

"I'm Agent Timothy McGee from NCIS. And you may call me Tim…considering the situation we've got ourselves into," Tim introduced himself as he wearily pulled off his balaclava.

Birger shrugged. "Well, if the weather doesn't improve, I'm afraid we'll both be cooped up here for some time. So let's make the best of this. However, first things first."

He crouched down by Tim's side and leaned forward to take a closer look at Tim's face, observing the white patches.

Birger reached out his hands to gently press it to McGee's skin and explained. "You suffer from frost nip. Re-warming the affected area is what you need, right now."

The numb frost nip white skin was soon replaced by glowing red.

"You'll be fine," the Dane declared, dropping his hands and sitting back to get comfortable beside Tim. "By the way, you don't have any food on you, have you?"

"I've got some granola bars… They're in my backpack. Help yourself."

"Thanks, mate," Birger gratefully replied as he pushed himself up again to retrieve Tim's discarded backpack. "Let's see what other treats you've brought… A head flashlight. GPS. A flare… That might still come in handy. And extra batteries for the flashlight. Excellent…"

The lieutenant's face fell when his search didn't reveal the one item he'd been looking for: a satellite phone.

He turned to ask Tim but found he'd already nodded off. Ah well, he would ask about it later and clambered back towards the NCIS agent.

Tim was brought back to full consciousness when the other brushed against him, trying to find a modicum of comfort by his side.

Birger once again gave him a once-over and frowned. "I noticed you hurt your shoulder in that spectacular tumble. Let me take a look at it."

"I think…I've dislocated it…again," Tim hissed as he tried to sit up for Birger to help him remove his thick coat and jumper.

After they were done, Birger gave him a longer assessing look, taking in Tim's now sickly pallor and a sheen of transpiration covering his brow.

"Right. I believe you're right. Now, let me fix this. I guess you already know this'll hurt but there's no other way. The sooner we get it back into place, the faster it'll heal. So, brace yourself. Or rather…don't brace yourself."

"I know, I know!" Tim gritted between his teeth. "Just…don't ramble and…just do it…quick!"

There was the awful sound of the joint popping back into its proper place, followed by Tim's sharp outcry of pain and an oath escaping his lips.

"That went well, I have to admit," Birger chuckled.

Tim, gingerly holding the offended arm, glared at the Danish officer. Damn the man for being such a…such a…_Pollyanna_! Geez!

Birger shifted to take something from the side before turning back to his patient.

"Let's get that shoulder stabilized, shall we? If this has happened before, it's likely it'll pop out again and we don't want that."

With deft hands, Birger bound up Tim's shoulder, finishing by strapping the injured limb with an improvised sling to Tim's torso. Carefully, the jumper went over the shoulder again, offering some more support, and lastly the coat. It was good to be warmer again…for what it was worth.

"Okay. Dinner time!"

They both sat in silence, munching their granola bars, while outside, the polar night was falling.

After finishing his meager meal, Tim shifted into a more comfortable position and soon dozed off into a fitful sleep, helped by his exhaustion.

All around them, the glacier was alive, making little cracking noises in the stillness of the Arctic night.

At some point, Tim was pulled from his uneasy slumber, his head feeling like it weighed a ton, by a particularly sharp crack which resonated in the cave.

He felt Lt. Nørsgård stir beside him. "Yup. It's breathing," the Dane blithely said, his face barely discernable in the gloom.

This laconic man positively irked Tim. Was every situation a joke or what?

"It is breathing? What are you talking about?"

The other smiled, his teeth the only things visible. "The ice. The glacier. It's constantly on the move, you see? But don't worry. We won't be crushed. Not in this season and not at the rate this mass goes. You wouldn't want to venture in here in the summer when the ice melts. Large chunks crumble off straight into the ocean. A magnificent sight, really, but not one you want to experience up close. Now, the fjord's frozen over anyhow, so, sorry mate, no spectacular calving for you." Birger chuckled, fondly, as if talking about a living being, a friend…

Now that he felt up to it, Tim took the time to let his gaze roam around the cave, the combined flashlights' beams illuminating the cave's frozen and glassy walls. The real beauty of the glacier lay hidden beneath the surface, and Tim's mouth fell open at the sheer magic beauty.

The color of the ice was a deep and striking blue and he'd never seen such a thing before.

Centuries old ice pressed together and hidden from sunlight gave the ice its intense blue hue. The shadows enhanced the bulbous and smooth transparent walls.

It truly was a stunning sight.

And suddenly, he felt a pang that all this was changing…disappearing due to the climate changes.

* * *

**_BTW, has anyone seen the aurora's, this past week? Sadly enough, the skies had been overcast in my neck of the woods and the predicted 30% chance of seeing one turned to a solid 0% when the CME impact turned out weaker than expected. _**

**_Aaarrrghhh! All my hopes to finally see one were dashed. *sigh*_**


	5. Dancing Lights

**_Glad to see some faithful followers sticking with me for this story. _**

**_I have taken a liking to Lt. Norsgard, too, earthdragon. And, ah...I'm sure Tim and/or Tony wouldn't have passed up on the chance of taking some souvenir snaps of each other as well as of the Arctic wilderness. ;D Who wouldn't? _**

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Dancing Lights_**

He sighed and decided this was the time to ask the Danish officer why he didn't seem overly concerned, considering the current situation. Really, this man was way too chipper.

"Aren't you ever worried?"

The other regarded him quizzically before replying.

"Should I? Trust me, I've been in situations far more threatening than this. In the morning, when we're rested, we'll walk out of here and find our way back in the direction of the base. Provided the weather improves, of course. I've already come this far and, from our encounter, I can see I was on the right track."

Tim didn't look entirely convinced.

"Really," Birger continued, a tad miffed at Tim's incredulity. "I know this world of ice and I'm quite at home in the snow and the cold. I can safely say I understand the Arctic. And I know where I'm going and that's out of here and into the open where we can at least be seen from up above…and in this case, I'm not talking about our Good Lord. But sometimes, we need to take a rest and shelter for the winter storms."

"How come you got separated from the others of your team, then?" Tim asked.

The lieutenant's countenance darkened and suddenly Tim understood; Birger knew full well there was more behind his getting into this situation and that it was no accident any more than Tim's own mishap.

"What happened?" Tim softly yet urgently asked.

"The truth is, I don't know. The last thing I remember was David, Lt Bennett, lagging behind when we were on our way back to camp and so I waited for him to catch up with me to continue together. This year's been particularly bad with frequent gale force easterly to southeasterly winds giving us a hard time literally blowing snow drifts in our faces. I knew he lacked some experience for this climate and I couldn't possibly leave him behind, could I?"

Birger spread out his hands before letting them fall into his lap again as he went on. "Little did I know what was about to happen next."

He shifted for a more comfortable position before continuing. "How could I ever know what he was about to do next! I waited for him to catch up before picking up our trek again and join the others again. When he caught up with me, he started a row. I was literally thrown! I honestly hadn't the faintest clue he'd been holding such a grudge against me"

"Why was that?"

The Danish lieutenant thought about it and then went on: "My only guess is that he was dismayed… Well, he apparently blamed me for his wife's death and resented that the leadership of the research team fell to me."

"His wife's death?"

"Nora. Dr. Nora Bennett-Styles. It was an unfortunate accident. We, she and I, went out on the glacier, last summer, and she went down one of the hidden moulins…" Here, he stopped at Tim's questioning eyes, to explain. "Glacier mills. They're roundish, vertical shafts worn in the ice by water or debris. They often go all the way down through the ice, right to the bottom where the melt water is drained from the glacier by a sub glacial stream." He gave a dismissive shrug and a rueful smile.

"I could go on and on on this subject. A bit of a hobby horse, you might say," he grinned sheepishly and then he was serious again.

"Okay, back to the story, though. As I said, Nora fell down one of these shafts to wash up on the beach a couple of weeks later. We both knew the risks and there truly was nothing I could do to save her. It went all so quick. Nonetheless, David apparently decided I was responsible for her death." He bit his lower lip in vexation at the memory. "Damn it! How could I've missed that! Why didn't he confront me about it sooner? Talk about it! At least then we'd have stood a better chance of fixing this… Anyway, I turned around and started walking, thinking and hoping he'd see sense and follow me to try and catch up with the others. The next instant, I was on the ground, face planted in the snow as he'd given me a push from behind. When I was down, he was upon me crushing my head deeper into the snow and all I could do was breathe in the stuff! I know I struggled but then, it was as if the lights suddenly went out and – God! – did it hurt!" He frowned as he rubbed the back of the head.

"So he struck you down…" Tim muttered, ever so carefully leaning closer to his companion and, taking off his glove with his teeth, ghosted the fingers of his left hand along the back of Birger's skull. And yes, there it was, an unmistakable lump consistent to a hefty blow to the lieutenant's head.

"So what did you do then? I mean, when you regained consciousness? Since you're sitting here, with me, in this ice cave, you must've got up to make it here."

"Yes. Gah! This flipping headache!" Birger hissed, annoyed. "When I came to, there was no sign of Bennett. He was gone and I was left to my own devices in an effing Condition Delta storm. So I started digging a trench, covered it and rode the storm out. When the skies had cleared, I started walking back towards the camp." He frowned. "I think my head must've taken a bad hit, though. Never seemed to get my bearings right. And then I had more bad luck when I twisted my ankle rather badly. The way I was feeling with that extra mishap! Thought I'd never get back to safety! And then, when I was about to give up, I was standing atop the ridge, looking down at the mouth of the glacier! It took me another two hours to get there and it was pitch dark again. Didn't feel my foot anymore. And I was so exhausted I had to force myself to stay alert and fix myself a decent place to rest without sleeping right into…death with hypothermia. And I needed to check my ankle. By the time I had more time to do so, it had swollen to such an extent I couldn't take my boot off to see how it was. So I decided it was maybe wiser to just leave it at that. Didn't want to run the risk of being unable to put that boot back on! Besides, I felt quite okay by it, as my other foot seemed just fine when I checked it. No signs of frostbite. Of course, as it always goes, the pain in my ankle was back with a vengeance when I awoke the next morning!"

"Keeping on walking also kept circulation going. Quite common."

"I know. Anyway, I couldn't stand on it, so I stayed put. I would try again, later."

"It wouldn't have made much difference, really."

"Yeah… I know. But then, I'd have forced myself up and marching. Hiking poles are no superfluous luxury, let me tell you that!" He said, pointing to his set resting close-by.

Leaning back, Tim closed his eyes to think.

Suddenly, he struggled up, face scrunched in a grimace at the flaring pain in his shoulder – he'd almost forgotten about it – and wordlessly pointed to his backpack.

The Dane stretched out an arm to retrieve it and, casting a questioning look towards the agent, started to zip it open.

"There's a file in there. Please hand it to me."

Birger obliged and Tim started to search the sheath of documents on the case until he found the one he'd been looking for. His eyes ran swiftly over the list in his good hand until one name stood out.

"Styles…" he said, slowly turning his head to look at Birger who first looked at him with puzzlement to subsequently nod in recognition.

"Nora! Nora Bennett-Styles. She's…was…she was in charge of the research team."

"Project Blue Ice," Tim acknowledged.

Birger nodded.

"Project Blue Ice. I trust you did your homework and already know what the project is all about?"

"It's a biomedical research program on military clothing materials and equipment, more specifically testing for total insulation under extreme ambient conditions."

"In this case, Arctic conditions," Birger concluded.

"Go on," Tim prompted, effortlessly falling into interview modus.

"The Blue Ice Research Unit was our field camp where we conducted all research and ran all necessary tests. For the testing phases, we had volunteers, midshipmen mostly, from both the Danish and US Navy spending any lengths of periods at the camp under the leadership of the camp commander; for this season, Lt Bennett was in charge. I admit it's quite uncommon to have both man and wife working on the same project, but…yes…well, there it was. There was no complaining, as the project ran like a well-oiled engine, really. That is…until…"

"Uhm…US CDR Styles…The US Training Officer…Are they, Dr. Bennett-Styles in any way related or is it a mere coincidence they share the same name?"

Birger's face was quite telling.

"I see. His sister?"

"Yes. A small world, isn't it?"

"No kidding!" Tim sighed. This was getting better and better!

But then Birger had a question of his own. "Why did you bring up the name Styles? Did something happen to the commander?"

"No. It's rather the other way round; something happened to me and my suspicions that he had anything to do with my ending up here in the middle of this godforsaken white hell have just become stronger than ever," Tim said, annoyed. "CDR Zeb Tyler had volunteered coming with us to investigate what we decided was to be a crime scene."

Tim's face had suddenly become hard.

"Oh, it all makes sense, now. It would be too much of a coincidence when I saw him 'checking' my ski-doo. It sure explains why mine broke down on our way back to the pick-up site!" He snorted.

"Looks like we now have found out about his intentions…"

"He bloody well tried to kill me! Just think about this! What were the odds I'd make it out of this alive? As things stand – and, please, let's be realistic about this! – we're still not out of the woods!"

Tim angrily shifted his position as his bad shoulder, stiffly wrapped against his torso, was throbbing.

The Dane chuckled, but there was nothing merry about it. "Woods… We would've had a better chance had we been left there."

The NCIS agent couldn't add anything more to this but a low grumble.

"So, what are the plans, then?"

"Okay. We rest. Then, at first light, we head west, away from the glacier into the open where at least we stand a better chance of being spotted. The wind has died and the skies are clearing as you can see," Birger dipped his chin towards the entrance of the cave.

"And, look, you're lucky, Tim. The aurora borealis!

Tim turned towards the glacier snout and, yes, a surreal green light was filtering inside even if he couldn't see the opening as such from his place.

Birger helped him up and together they, treading carefully, made it towards the entrance to admire the results of a strong bout of solar activity offering them what could easily be considered one of the most beautiful natural wonders to behold.

The northern skies were alight with dancing green curtains of a very active aurora borealis and they were right beneath it !

"There are many legends and folktales surrounding the northern lights," Birger said as he gingerly sat down atop a large and flat boulder which had been polished smooth by the glacier. Tim did likewise.

The agent remained silent, too much in awe by the glorious sight.

"The Inuit believed they were spirits in the sky or ancestors illuminating the way to heaven. It is also said that babies conceived under the northern lights will be gifted and very intelligent."

Birger turned to get a better look at his companion. "Do you have…you know…someone?"

"Well,…uhm…" Tim blushed, evident even in this light.

"You do! Tell me about her!" The Danish officer insisted, eager to hear about it.

"Her name's Abby. She's our Forensic Scientist, back in Washington DC. And she's one quirky lady, let me tell you this," Tim smiled.

"How long do you know each other?"

"Oh, quite a couple of years, actually. Let me see. It must be going on 10 years."

"What? I take it you've married her?"

"No. I haven't. So much has happened. Our relationship's known a few ups and downs. She wasn't ready to commit, yet."

"But do you love her?"

After the barest of hesitations, Tim replied. "Yeah…"

"And? Is it mutual?"

"I…I think so. Actually, I think she does as she can act quite jealous."

"Then, what are you waiting for? Why don't you give it another shot? Who says she won't be ready to…to…tie the knot?"

Tim laughed. This somehow reminded him of Ziva. At least, Birger got the idiom right.

"Who knows, indeed…"

He thought about it. If he made it out of here alive… Life was too short and they both weren't getting any younger. Birger was right: he should give it another shot before it was too late.

Tim looked up at the magical spectacle. It was too beautiful for words.

"What's this sound?"

"Eh?" Birger seemed to have emerged from his own private thoughts.

"This…faint hissing and crackling…like static electricity. Oh, and now it's sounding more like…whistling… That's not the glacier again, is it?"

Birger listened and then laughed. "You don't often hear it as clear as you do now, you know? You have no idea, have you?"

"No?"

"It's the aurora you hear."

Rather unconvinced, the agent turned his eyes towards the lieutenant. "Yeah right."

"Really! Not every outburst generates sound but this is a particularly active aurora. It's actually very rare. I mean, it's rare to hear them with the naked ear. They're caused by the charged particles from the sun which collide with molecules in the atmosphere, same as how the northern lights are made and akin to thunderstorms. And…"

He shushed Tim, indicating he should listen carefully.

Tim's eyes went wide and he felt his heart thud in his chest, as if he were an exulted school boy.

"Are they…are they…waxing and waning with the movements of the aurora ? I…think I heard more popping…muted but…popping." Tim couldn't quite believe the sounds his ears were picking up.

"You got it!" Birger smiled.

"Woooowwww..."

"According to the Inuit, it's their ancestors talking to them from beyond… Few can hear it, these days : too much ambient noise. It's like watching the stars… In some places, you can even hardly make out the Milky Way!"

"So, correct me if I'm wrong, but since the aurora borealis ionizes air, and the aurora's caused by moving magnetic fields, I'd say the ionized air molecules produce the sound, provided they're close to ground level? How close, exactly?"

"About 70m, consistent with triangulation outcomes.» Birger nodded approvingly. «You're quite good!"

"The frequency would then be…"

"Quite high, yes. And, no, it's not the tinnitus you might suffer, as the more sceptical minds believe. Yeah, I've heard that one before, believe me. Rather often, in fact. Those people don't know what they're talking about. Just the same as seeing the elusive green flash."

"Well, I know for a fact I don't have tinnitus ; as a Federal Agent, you get annual medical check-ups. And, yes, one has to see – or hear – this to believe it. Still…Abby would LOVE this!" Tim smiled, forgetting the cold at the dazzling and dancing display. Now, this was something he would miss when he would be back in DC.

Eventually, they both went back inside and clambered back onto their spot. They huddled close together, sharing their warmth.

It was vital to be rested for their big hike next morning so they would sleep.

At least, that was what they'd wanted to do, except that both men knew sleep would elude them for the better part of the night. Their sleep was going to be interrupted as they'd keep vigil, closely watching for changes in vital signs in the other in the event of a hypothermic state. There was the very real, if unwelcome, thought they might not wake up again. Neither wanted to slip into the freezing arms of death.

* * *

**_So, we didn't (well, I didn't!) get to see the northern lights but at least I hope you've enjoyed reading about them._**

**_As for the sound they may make (I've never heard an aurora, let alone see one!), I trust the accounts by people who claim to have heard them. Tinnitus? Nothing as annoying as that but you _****always _hear this irking sound when all's quiet and I believe it's hardly the same thing. _**

**_That 'green flash' I mentioned in the story really does exist as I've seen one with my very own eyes and even got a picture of it! Oh, it's not really that special, you know?_**


	6. Here Comes the Cavalry!

_**Chapter 5: Here Comes the Cavalry!**_

_**Day 4**_

The next day, they got up to get ready for their, hopefully, last lap.

Both were bleary eyed with fatigue and hurting. Tim's shoulder felt frozen to his torso and Birger was unsure of his bad ankle's stability when the slightest bit of pressure standing on that foot sent spikes of pain all the way up his leg.

Tim and Birger left the mouth of the glacier in silence, desperate to make it through this ordeal for they didn't expect to survive another night in this wilderness.

So, they started negociating the thick white carpet on a northerly course, the snow crunching beneath their feet.

They had been trudging on for hours and still it seemed like they were getting nowhere.

The two men hardly spoke. Indeed, it was best to save their energy. Both were too busy putting one foot in front of the other. Neither wanted to think of the possibility of spending an other night hunkering down in yet another improvised shelter and see what little chances of survival they had, dwindle even more.

One consolation; it was a good day. No icy winds coming down from the ice sheet. It was a cloudless sky.

Tim lifted his eyes up from staring at the ground in front of his toiling feet and blinked as he let his gaze travel the vast white expanse, the glacier still within sight behind him.

_All is white… All is bright… And silent…_

He snorted. A child's dream…

Dreaming of a white Christmas… Scrap that; the Season's been gone for two months for crying out loud!

Making snowmen or building igloos, then; with snow tapped into compact blocks by gloved hands.

As the day progressed, exhaustion and their injuries were taking their toll.

Tim stumbled and dropped to his knees.

Birger, noticing his companion was no longer trudging alongside, glanced back and waited, resting his weight on the hiking pole.

Breath coming in short little spurts, Tim scrambled back to his feet and willed his tired and shaking legs into motion again.

Little by precious little, he recovered his resolve, knowing that all he needed was to make it back to the equally struggling Dane's side. If Nørsgård could do this with his bad ankle, then so could McGee with his dislocated shoulder. A good thing his shoulder had been snugged back into place, painful though it still felt. Besides, his legs, unlike Birger's, were still without injury!

And so they resumed their arduous trek; half hallucinating and feeling increasingly disorientated.

At this point, the two toiling men knew they were going beyond the limits of endurance when every step meant excruciating pain.

What little progress they made, it was slow, and by the time the sun was closing the distance to the horizon, they were walking like automatons; no thinking, no seeing, no nothing.

Finally, Birger sank down, his legs no longer able to support him, his head hanging in defeat.

When Tim lowered himself beside his friend, they both looked at each other with God knew what thoughts running through their heads at that moment.

Oh yes, that instant, they were both ready to say their goodbyes.

When a distant roaring of rotors could be heard, it was hardly surprising they thought they were hallucinating.

It didn't take too long, though, before their eyes were scanning the darkening skies.

When the sound evaporated again, they were close to crying, feeling their chances for survival dwindling alarmingly.

In a brief moment of clarity, Tim thought of the flare still in his kit and he feverishly fumbled for it, removed the plastic, screwed off the top, ignited it and pointed it up and away, praying for dear life someone would see the beacon.

They did and soon, the helicopter came their way, made a pass, and then, when someone inside the cockpit spotted the two men, the chopper swooped back and proceeded to land at a safe distance from the two sagging men.

Tony was the first to reach them and puled Tim into a long and unmanly hug. And Tim let him, leaning into the man who'd been his best friend for a good while, now. As for this very moment, it was bliss to just feel held in those arms. Safe. He was safe again.

"How…how…"

"Well, after you fell behind and then got lost, I tried to return for you but the others said there was no telling when that had happened and that it was too late… I'm sorry, Tim…" Tony, swallowed and looked away, uncharacteristically.

Tim didn't know what to say.

Tony cleared his throat and continued: "Flying over the place was no use in the storm. We couldn't see a damned thing and it was all we could do to make it to the base in one piece. There, I did my best harassing them to bring the rescue efforts forward. They told me they couldn't carry out a rescue mission until the storm had abated… Tim? Buddie? You still with me?" He started to shake Tim who exclaimed a sharp cry of pain.

"Stop that! I'm awake! I'm awake!"

"Oh, sorry. Thought for a while you…"

"Next," Tim asked rather shortly, but then, seeing how his short temper was going to get the better of him, he just as quickly apologized. "Sorry, I…my shoulder. Please, Tony, keep talking. Please…"

Tony's brow furrowed.

"Anyway, here we are. I've got your six, Probie," Tony said, softly and caring.

"By the way, Abby'll be frantic, by now. As soon as we touch down, I should make a call and pass her the good news! And the others, too."

Tim, let Tony prattle on. For once, he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.

He turned slightly to check on Birger and saw the young Danish officer didn't mind either, a contented smile on his lips as he winked at Tim, and listened to Tony's rambling.

Inside the chopper, they still didn't dare close their weary eyes, preferring to stay awake until they reached the hospital where they knew the medical staff would be able to help them.

As soon as Mt. Dundas came into sight, they knew they'd made it.

Death, after all, wouldn't claim them.

They'd been so, so fortunate…

* * *

_**After this chapter, there only remains one more to conclude the story.**_

_**As ever, you're welcome to share your thoughts with me.**_


	7. Alive!

_**So here's the last lap of **_**Blue Ice**_**. Having finished this, I'm now making **_**Head Case**_**my priority.**_

* * *

_**Chapter 6: Alive!**_

**_Day 5: 76°31′52″N 068°42′11″W_**  
**_Greenland - Thule US Airbase_**

Tim was dozing when Tony circumspectly opened the door to his hospital room, peeking in to check if his friend was awake. Anyway, even if Tim wasn't yet, Tony soon would make sure he was, for he had come with a gift.

Walking over to the hospital bed on which Tim lay, he sat down and stooped to retrieve a box from his bag which he placed on the bed side table, before digging his hands once more into the bag to come out again with two bowls and a pair of spoons.

Then, he sat back in the chair, deciding he would give Tim exactly 5 minutes and not a second longer to wake up on his own.

He wasn't going to be disappointed as Tim, no doubt sensing someone was with him, slowly opened his eyes, at the same time stretching his long legs underneath the covers.

"Hello, sleeping beauty," Tony greeted his friend.

"Heyyyy…." Tim replied, his voice slightly slurred from his nap, and pushed himself up with his good arm.

"Brought you a little something," Tony said, grinning mischievously.

"Oh yeah?" Tim's curiosity was piqued. "What is it?" He asked, dipping his head towards the box and the bowls sitting on the side table.

"Close your eyes again," Tony instructed.

Tim, doing as he was told, listened carefully, wondering what Tony was doing. Was he scooping something? What's the scraping noise? It had to be something to eat, why else the bowls?

"Okay," Tony said, his clothes rustling as he shifted in his chair to lean over.

"Tsk, tsk!" He admonished when he caught Tim opening his eyes, "didn't give you permission to open your eyes, yet."

"Now hold out your hand."

Tim's eyes shot open at the feel of something cold being placed in his hand and he stared in disbelief at what was in the bowl.

"Blue ice cream?"

"Yup, buddie. Had a chat with the chef of the Dundas Buffet Restaurant, and, believe it or not, he had some Blue Moon! How do you like it?"

Ping

At the distinct sound of an incoming Skype video call, Tony set aside his bowl of Blue Moon and reached for the notebook to accept the caller. With a grin, he placed it on the bed table across Tim's lap.

"Hey, Timmy!" Abby's head popped in front of the screen to instantly vanish again, a pair of hands taking the place of her head. "Check out my finger nails! They're Arctic Blue! Especially for you!"

A smile tugged at Tim's mouth at the sight of the blue glitter finger nails. Oh yeah, so very Abby.

"Thanks, Abby. Looks gorgeous," he nodded with genuine approval as the image changed again, showing Abby's beaming face.

"I miss you, Timmy."

"Me too, Abs."

Behind Abby, Gibbs, Ducky, Ziva, Palmer and last but not least, Director Vance, huddled together to get into view, all smiling broadly.

There was a knock at the door and it opened, revealing Birger, being wheeled inside by a nurse to be settled beside Tim's bed.

And then, Abby gave the thumbs up.

Tony reached in his pocket and very solemnly slipped a ribbon bearing a medal over Tim's head, while Birger declared in a grave tone: "Determination and courage are keyfactors in surviving arctic conditions. That and the will to live are crucial to make it through. So, congratulations, Agent Timothy McGee: you've passed the test and can call yourself no longer an Arctic newbie."

Tim was speechless and all he could do was nod his thanks, all the while clutching the medal at his chest. It was just a cheap medal like those given on school sports days and not at all official, but it was cool to be surrounded by his friends - now also including Birger. 

**_Epilogue_**

The US Training Officer, Commander Zeb Tyler, arrested and charged for the attempted murder of a Federal Agent, after the eyewitness account by Agent T. McGee. Later, further evidence proved CDR Tyler's guilt.

After correlating all evidence gathered at the Blue Ice Project Unit, it had been established that the Danish RN Lieutenant Birger Nørsgård, formerly reported missing, was not responsible for USN Lieutenant David Bennett's death, equally reported missing.

An inquest reopened into the circumstances of of Nora Bennett-Tyler's death was found to have been accidental.

**THE END**

* * *

**_So we've reached the end. It wasn't very long but I hope you've all enjoyed the read.  
_**

**_May I pester you one last time for your feedback? :)_**

**_Thank you!_**


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